Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Keyes navigated the Honda back in its space, putting the kickstand down. He made a mental note that the clutch felt off. Maybe stiff. He needed to check his last oil change. Make sure he’d done everything correctly. He should do that right now, but he was tired as fuck. Maybe he could find some time later this week. The raid couldn’t have come at a worse time. Hell, he’d have lots of free time if business continued like today, except he had no employees left to take shifts.
On that note, he realized he hadn’t seen his father all day. Hadn’t even thought to check on him. Palming his phone, he looked for a message, anything from the club. He hadn’t even thought to look for information from them all afternoon which wasn’t like him. Shit. The blond hadn’t been anywhere near, and Keyes had still managed to blow off his club responsibilities. He should be at the clubhouse right now, helping to plot their next moves. The raids had seriously disrupted their cash flow.
Skimming through all the bullshit that the guys traded back and forth in group messages, Keyes caught headlights roaming across the shop. His uncle, no doubt. He continued reading the message until he cut through the crap, messaging Devilman separately, asking if they found out anything new since their meeting this morning.
If he were as standup as he liked to think, he’d tell his brothers about meeting Alec. He rejected that notion almost as quickly as it entered his mind. Alec was his little secret for now. Only his. He wasn’t ready to share. There would be no question to any of them that Alec had planned the whole meeting, trying to get a way inside the club. His brothers would terrorize the lawyer, make his life a living hell. Alec didn’t deserve that, at least not right now.
“Hey, I heard you blow by. In a hurry?” his uncle said, adjusting his ball cap as he stepped inside the shop.
“Not as much as I should be,” Keyes replied, pocketing his phone.
“I tried to call you. You doing okay?” his uncle asked, taking his normal seat, a stool off to the side, concern in every word he spoke.
“You saw?” Dumb question, of course he had. His uncle only nodded. “They got my phone. I should’ve left a note for you last night,” Keyes said, as close to an apology as he ever gave anyone.
“What happened? It was all over the news last night and again today.” His uncle crossed his arms over his chest and anchored his feet on the bottom rung of the chair. He swiveled, moving in small measured movements back and forth. All the signs Keyes had learned to indicate his uncle’s worry.
“Did the feds show up here?” Keyes asked.
“No. I haven’t heard anything from anyone. How’d all that affect business?”
“It’s not good,” Keyes answered, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Fucking Immigration came right after. They got a lot of our guys, fucking pussies. Even the legal ones were hauled off.” Keyes had to stop talking, realigning himself to talking to a non-brother. His uncle had always struggled with the strong language. He had questioned Keyes’s constant use for many years. He was probably the reason the word fuck wasn’t in every sentence he spoke. It took a second to get ahold of the immediate anger, before Keyes finished his line of thought. “Not that it matters. We had four customers today. Two of those were free repairs.”
“Keyes, that’s awful. What’re they after?”
“Don’t know. The club says it’s clean. Since that Sons of Bedlam bullshit fight in the panhandle, that new DA’s been all over us. We’ve stayed clean. Somethin’s not right.”
“Keyes, I say this to you all the time, but, son, please leave the club. Leave it all behind. I’ll help you. You’re a smart guy. Look at these bikes. You’re so talented. You could make a fortune doing this, not changing tires for a living to support that no-good father of yours, and that club.” Clyde’s heart was in the right place, even though he refused to see Keyes’s side in all this.
Keyes had taken a pledge, vowing not only his loyalty but his life to the club. He’d rightfully earned his cut and patches the old-fashioned way, with blood, sweat, and hard work. That shit didn’t just go away. And even if it did, club life was all he knew. If he tried to leave, he’d lose everything he owned, his family, his identity. He wouldn’t even know what to do or where to go. His bike became theirs when he’d taken the oath, anything he’d acquired would belong to the club, and he’d be expected to immediately hand it over.
“Uncle Clyde, you know I can’t quit. You know what would happen to me. I’ve got five more years before I can retire in good standing. Maybe then.” That was honestly Keyes’s hope. He saved all of his share from the secret deals he’d gone on. The only thing he’d ever splurged on was the Honda, and he had opted to pay that out over time rather than to deplete his savings. He had a chunk of hidden cash. If he could just hold on, keep out of prison, and keep saving, maybe someday he could get out from under all this bullshit and still retain his friends.